Reminisce
by Tortugita
Summary: When a girl is held up at a corner store, Mikey tries to help. Unfortunately, an accident causes her to lose her memory. Can he help her remember who she is? In time, will he even want to? Mikey/OC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story is dedicated to MayoDiamond.

A/N 2: I don't own the Ninja Turtles, but Michelle Robinson is my own creation.

--Edited...again...--

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Reminisce 

Rated: T

Chapter: One

It was late.

Michelle Robinson noted this as the bell to the gas station she was working the grave shift at chimed the arrival of a new customer. It never failed. Just when she was counting down the seconds towards the end of her shift someone always had to walk in. She looked up to glare the the hooded person, but froze when she realized that she was nose to barrel with a gun.

Heart leaping into her throat, Michelle found herself suddenly wishing she'd never moved to New York. Screw the Cosmetology degree. She should have gone back to Colorado to work at her sister's stupid wanna-be pet store.

Even though, he hunched slightly, the man towered at least a foot over her, but the hood of his sweater was pulled so low that she could not make out his face. Only his chin, covered in craters and scars, was visible. The hand holding the gun trembled, though it didn't seem like it was in fear. The skin of his hand was dry and yellow. It seemed to be stretched too thin over his bones.

"Give me the money," He muttered, his voice muffled as if he spoke through gritted teeth.

"I'm um... sure we can work this out, friend," She said shakily, raising her hands in what she hoped the man would take as passiveness.

The man's head lifted jerkily and wide, blood shot eyes focused on her. The sight of the man's face was frightful. His cheeks were gaunt and his skin was yellow. His eye's seemed to have sunked into his head and were rimmed by dark circles as he hadn't slept in years. His pupils were almost fully dilated and seemed unable to focus on her as they darted back and forth over her face. His nose was running, the mucus trailing over his chapped and scabbed lips to disappear under his chin. Around the bottom edges of his nose was a dark, peeling substance that appeared to be dried blood.

Michelle couldn't stop herself from wrinkling her nose. Even though he still didn't seem to have really looked at her face, he apparently caught the expression of disgust. She tried to mask it, but his features twisted in anger.

"What are you looking at, bitch? Give me the damn money or I'll put a fucking bullet in your head!" He snarled and the woman cringed away from him as spittle speckled her cheeks.

"Look, I was getting ready to close there isn't any money in the-Ahh!" Michelle tried to explain. The man growled and fisted the front of her red polo shirt, yanking her not too gently closer to him. Their noses were almost touching and she could smell the stomach churning stench of sweat and urine. She swallowed thickly as the cold barrel of the gun pressed firmly against her neck.

"Give me the fucking money!" The man demanded again, shaking the fist that was balled in her shirt.

"I-I can't! There's no money in the register!" the woman cried, half hysterical. She wondered suddenly if she was going to walk away from this. Trembling she struggled to looked the man in the eyes, hoping he'd see that she was telling the truth. He looked away and glanced towards the windows.

To her horror, two more men wearing hooded sweaters were advancing on the store. Both stooped, their heads hanging, and had their hands shoved into the front pocket of their dark hoodies. The pockets bulged and Michelle didn't need to be told what they were concealing inside.

The man released her, though not before shoving her roughly and jumped over the counter to fiddle with the register. Michelle hit the glass cabinets that held their tobacco products and the paneling shattered from the impact before she fell to her knees.

Trying to ignore the shard of glass piercing her palms, the woman pushed from the ground, standing and looking over her shoulder. The man seemed thoroughly preoccupied by the cash register, so she took the opportunity to run. Unfortunately, her escape was cut short by a rather solid blockade. One of the men from the parking lot grinned darkly at her from beneath his hood and she backed away only to have an arm wrap around her neck.

The first man had abandoned the register and pulled her body against his.

Stubble scratched her cheek as the man behind her rubbed his face against hers.

"So smooth..." The rough voice commented," Where is the money?"

"Tell us and we might let you go," The man in front of her reasoned. Though his voice was softer and lighter, his face was haggard. Noting her stare, he smirked and swiped a hand over his head, letting the hood fall to his shoulders. The man had to be in his thirties, judging by the very few strands of gray that speckled his hair. He had a thick beard but no mustache and he smiled, baring yellowed teeth.

"How old are you, sweetheart? Seventeen? Eighteen?" He asked," We know you don't wanna be any trouble. Just tell us where you put the money and we'll let you walk out of here."

Michelle shuddered in disgust as he leaned closer, eyes half lidded. His wry smile made her skin crawl. With a grunt, she lifted her legs and kicked out. To her delight, she connected solidly with the man's stomach and he took several steps backwards, doubled over. Jerking her shoulders violently, she struggled to break free from the man holding her. He fell back on the register and hissed in pain, but only held tighter, one hand moving to her neck to squeeze.

"You must have a death wish," Growled the man containing her, pressing the tip of the gun under her jaw, forcing her chin upwards.

The man she kicked recovered and his face was red with fury. He'd pulled out his gun and was also aiming at her, though the third man was chuckling, obviously amused by the whole ordeal.

"She's got some fire. Best keep this one alive a while longer, eh Ted," The third man commented, elbowing man number two, who only sneered at him.

_Why?_ Michelle silently asked any entity that might listen, _Why is this happening to me?_

"It really takes three of you to beat up on one defenseless chick?" A new voice asked from behind the two men. They barely managed to turn and re-aim their guns when suddenly they both collapsed.

Michelle squeaked and tried to see who'd come to her rescue, but there was no one there.

"What the-?" The body against her back tensed and the hand on her neck tightened a fraction, then suddenly let go as a crash sounded behind her. She whipped around in time to see the man's feet disappear over the side of the register.

Rubbing her neck and struggling to catch her breath, Michelle slowly turned around. Her chocolate hues stared directly into startlingly blue orbs.

"Are you okay, dudette?" A husky surfer accented voice asked.

Michelle blinked and took in the orange mask, green skin and short, rounded snout. The creature was smiling at her, but she could only stare silently back, her grateful thank you dying in her throat. Unsure of whether she should scream or not, she settled for staring.

"Yeah, I usually have that effect on women," the creature commented, rubbing his head and laughing," My rugged good looks must have taken your breath away!"

Michelle frowned uncertainly when he wiggled his eye ridges at her. She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped as she saw a hooded head rise from the other side of the counter. The first man was shaking even more violently than before and was staring in fear at the... thing... that had saved her. His gun was pointed at the creature's... shell?

Michelle had read in books that in situations like this, time seemed to freeze and before then, the idea seemed quite ridiculous. However, as she saw the man cock the gun, the world seemed to have indeed, stopped spinning. Her savior was staring at her, ignorant to his attacker, his eyes bright and friendly. Perhaps the innocence behind those depths was what made her do it, she wasn't completely sure, but in an instant, she lifted her hands and shoved the green skinned creature out of the bullet's path.

As if someone had covered her ears, the sound of the gun firing seemed muffled and despite her attempt to back away, her shoulder exploded in pain. Hand instinctively rising to the wound, where warmth was all ready spread, eagerly soaked up by her shirt, disbelieving chocolate eyes lowered fearfully. All ready her hand was covered in rich red and her heart hammered. Airways suddenly closing, she took a few panicked gasps before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped backwards, her head hitting the ground with a sharp _crack_.

Michelangelo's eyes widened as his shoulder hit the broken case. Glass cut into his shoulder, but he ignored it as he watched as this woman he didn't even know took the bullet. She was looking down at herself, face pale and twisted into an expression of horror. Trembling violently, she collapsed. The woman didn't get up, but he didn't have the time to worry about that because the gun was on him again.

"Didn't your mom ever teach you not to play with guns?" He asked, kicking the offending weapon out of the man's hand. In one swift movement, he brought the heel of his palm against the base of the man's neck and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious for real this time.

"What a charmer," the orange banded turtle commented lowly before turning to check on the girl. She hadn't moved from the position she fell in. Her head was turned away from him and she was leaned slightly on her side, one arm hanging over her hip and the other thrown out.

"Hey, girl..." he called timidly, but received not response. Groaning, he glanced over his shoulder as he heard sirens in the distance. He couldn't just leave her there, not after she just probably saved his life. Dropping to her side, he gently touched her shoulder. Her body shifted slightly and he saw that the bullet had actually only grazed the top of her left shoulder, though it bled heavily. The left side of her face was also covered in tiny scratched from the glass littering the ground.

"Ah, shell..." He murmured as he noticed the slowly growing pool of blood around the woman's head.

Whimpering, Michelangelo looked around for help, but his brothers had sent him on a simple mission. Get some coffee and snacks. This should require but one turtle. Of course, they'd been to this corner store a million times and it had never been held up before.

He didn't have time left to wonder if what he was doing was right. He could all ready see the red and blue lights rounding the corner. Without further stalling, he slipped one arm under her knees and another under her head, dashing out the door and leaping onto the roof.

"Donnie is so gonna kill me..." He groaned, then looked fearfully down at the woman in his arms. Her breathing was ragged and uneven. He was no doctor, but even he knew that that was not a good thing.

"Please don't die," He begged as he leaped from from roof top to roof top as quickly as he could.

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A/N: I owe a huge thank you to Lola Hard for you advice with Michelle's gun wound and for your help with bashing her head. I really appreciate your input!

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	2. Chapter 2

Reminisce

Rated: T

Chapter: Two

"Donnie!" Michelangelo called the second he set foot in their lair.

Leonardo was walking out of the dojo, wiping his face with a towel. Raphael trailed behind him, looking worn out, but annoyed. He shot an irritated scowl at the blue banded turtle, who only smiled smugly back. That was, until their attention fell on their baby brother.

They both froze and looked from his stricken face to the unconscious woman he gently cradled in his arms. Blood was smeared across his shoulders and plastron and the woman's shirt was soaked in the dark red substance. Neither of the older turtles moved.

Mikey was panting as he looked from Leonardo to Raphael, both of whom seemed to be shocked into silence.

Donatello emerged from his lab wearing his goggles with too many lenses. His enlarged eyes shifted back and forth, surveying his three brothers. Frowning, he set a beaker he'd been inspecting the contents of onto the kitchen counter and pushed the band that held the lenses in place higher onto his forehead so that he could see better.

"What's going on, guys?" He asked, but without the goggles, he could finally see what Mikey was holding. The woman's head hung at an uncomfortable looking angle over his elbow and blood slowly dripped from her brown hair, which hung in wet cords. Fear of a human girl waking in their lair wanted to root him into the spot like his older brothers, but the medic in him made his feet move.

He darted to the orange banded terrapin, gingerly touching the side right side of the woman's head, where the blood seemed to be seeping from.

"I'm sorry! The store was attacked and she got hurt…" Michelangelo explained, nervously eyeing Leonardo who was looking more irritated by the minute," I er… I couldn't leave here there."

Donatello smiled softly at his kind hearted little brother. From the time they were kids, he'd always had a habit of adopting injured animals and nursing them back to health. As he got older, that compassion turned towards humans. Though this was the first he'd ever actually brought one home, he'd always refused to leave a site where a human lay injured. He'd even carried some to the doorsteps of a hospital on occasion. He didn't like the idea of another human knowing of their existence, but he couldn't be angry.

He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder," First thing's first. Are _you_ okay, Mike?"

"I just got a little scratch. Dude, she's gonna bleed to death if you don't do something!" Mikey worriedly glanced at the woman's pale face. It was covered in a layer of sweat and her lips were parted as she breathed raggedly.

After looking over the woman's injuries, Donnie decided that now was not the time to interrogate his brother about why he had chosen not to take this one to a hospital. Instead, he carefully lifted the girl from his arms and carried her to his lab.

"Stay here. I'm going to need room and quiet while I diagnose and mend her," He instructed over his shoulder because he knew Mikey would try to hide in his lab to escape being lectured by Leo. He smiled a little when the orange masked turtle whimpered a little and shut the door.

…

"I don't know what you were thinking, Michelangelo," Leonardo said, his voice heavy with stern disappointment.

Michelangelo was slumped over the kitchen table. He held his head in his hands and sighed. A bowl of red water, which Leo dipped a wash cloth into again, squeezing the water from it, sat at his elbow. The oldest turtle shook his head at the lack of response and continued to clean the shallow cuts on his little brother's shoulder.

"I'll tell you what he was thinkin'," Raphael growled, hitting the table with his fist," he wasn't! This rocks for brains idiot-"

"Raph!" Leo snapped, glaring at the hothead," This is not the time."

"It's fine, Leo," Mikey said, lifting his gaze to smirk in Raph's direction," He's just sour because you kicked his shell _again_ in training."

"Why you-!" The chair Raphael sat on screeched on the cement as he stood quickly and reached across the table to throttle the youngest turtle. Mike cried out and jerked backwards away from him. His elbow hit the bowl of water and it fell off the table, spilling all over the floor.

"Raphael!" Leo barked, placing a hand firmly in the center of his plastron. He leaned close so their snouts were almost touching and hissed," Back down."

Raphael's lips curled in a sneer as his amber eyes focused on Leo's hazel. Leo blinked calmly back and whispered," Don't turn all the time I've spent with you into a waste."

Michelangelo frowned, leaning forward in an attempt to hear was Leo was whispering, but he couldn't make out but a word or two. He hated being left in the dark. Recently, Raphael and Leonardo were spending tons of time together training in the dojo. They spent hours doing extra katas and sparring. They seemed to have reached a truce in the last year. Raphael still had a bad attitude, but Leo seemed to be slowly reeling him in on a leash.

Once again, Raphael yielded to whatever Leo was always whispering to him. Turning sharply, he swaggered grumpily out of the kitchen, grumbling under his breath. Leaping to the second story, he disappeared in his bedroom with a loud slam of his door.

Michelangelo glared after his retreating shell until it disappeared. Leo might be successfully preventing him from attacking everyone, but his angry outbursts were becoming a lot more often. His temper had evolved into a frighteningly short fuse and it was getting to be impossible to tell when he'd fly off the handle.

When his gaze dropped back down to the kitchen, Leo had all ready wipe up the floor and was frowning at him, eye ridges lowered and arms folded over his plastron. Mike blinked and smiled sheepishly. Leo was not impressed.

He sighed and let his arms drop as he retrieved bandages and antibiotic ointment. Squeezing some of the white cream onto his fingers, he gently spread it over Mikey's shoulder. Mikey closed his eyes and let the cool cream mixed with the warmth of his brother's fingers soothe him.

"Was that necessary, Michelangelo?" Leo asked quietly, wary of his voice carrying up to the second floor.

"Look, dude, it's not my fault Raph's such a sour puss all the time. He shouldn't get so defensive," Mike replied.

Leo sighed again, shaking his head as he replaced the cap on the cream and proceeded to bandage his shoulder," Mikey, you need to back off once in a while. You and Raph have always bickered, but he's trying to grow up. Why don't you?"

That stung, but it wasn't like he hadn't heard it before. It seemed Michelangelo was getting that lecture more and more often. It was a little depressing. Anytime he so much as cracked a smile, Leo was jumping him with another lecture about how childish he was. And, judging by the way, the blue banded brother was squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he felt another one coming on and sank lower in his chair, tilting his head back against the top to stare in misery at the high, doming ceiling.

"Taking that woman down here was very irresponsible of you…" Leo began in that annoyingly firm "leader" voice of his.

"Leo, she got shot because of me…" Mike argued.

"No, you were injured because you dove into a situation that did not involve you alone," Leo replied," I don't know how many times I've told you not to do that. The streets aren't as safe as they were when we were kids. The Foot is…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Mikey rolled his eyes, holding up his hand to pinch his fingers and thumb together and spread them again in a mocking imitation of Leo lecturing him," The Foot is at large, infecting the street gangs, infiltrating the police system and local government. Been there, heard that. Sing me a new tune, dude. I've heard this one before."

Leo ran a hand over his face," How come you can't take _anything_ seriously?"

"I _am_ taking this _seriously_! That woman was _seriously _alone in a corner shop and was _seriously_ getting beat up by three very _serious_ thugs. So, I _seriously_ intervened because they _seriously_ were going to kill her!"

"You're not being funny."

"I'm not trying to be, man!" Michelangelo stood, throwing his arms wide," You've made sure of that, haven't you? Heaven forbid I laugh and try to make the best of things because they don't fit in with _Leonardo's_ plans. Ever since Master Splinter-!"

Leo moved so fast Mikey almost didn't see him as he jerked forward and grasped his arm in a vice like grip. It was painful.

"Don't go there," Leo hissed, eyes narrow," That has nothing to do with anything."

"Whatever," Mike jerked his arm away," It has everything to do with how you've been acting. Deny it all you want. You're not the same. I'm going to check on Donnie if you're done telling me what a childish muck up I am."

Michelangelo didn't wait for an answer. He whirled immediately and stalked towards Donnie's lab. At least one of his brothers was still sane. As sane as a mad scientist could be anyway. He pushed the door open and smiled.

Donatello was leaning over an examination table where the woman was lying face up. She was still unconscious. Donnie was supporting her head with one hand and attempting to wrap it with the other.

"Perfect timing, Mikey!" He chimed when the orange banded turtle entered. He shifted, holding the gauze out to his little brother," mind lending me a hand?"

Since the lab was located fairly close to the kitchen, he'd heard almost every word exchanged between Mike and Leo. He felt bad for his younger brother. Mikey was right. Leo was different. He was more morose and expected his brothers to be as well. Leo didn't seem to be able to understand that Michelangelo did not do 'morose'. Or serious. It wasn't in his genetic make up. Donatello understood that Mikey needed humor. He needed to laugh and joke so that he could convince himself that everything was okay. Otherwise, he would lose his mind.

Mikey silently took the gauze, nodding. He carefully wrapped the woman's head. He could see that Donnie had cleaned the wound and noticed that a painful looking knot had been revealed. She was breathing more evenly. Deep and slow, as if she was peacefully asleep now.

Donatello discreetly eyed Mikey," Are you okay, Mike?"

Michelangelo nodded, bright smile belying the depression that seemed to emanate in waves from him," Yeah, dude! Totally!"

He didn't elaborate, but ducked his head to look at the woman's face as he concentrated on tucking the end of the gauze into a wrap.

"Do you er… think I was stupid for bringing her here?"

"I don't think you're stupid for anything, Mike," Donnie said, gently setting the woman's head back onto a pillow he supplied from his own bed," But I am curious to know exactly _why_ you brought her here."

"She got hurt because of me…" Mikey explained.

"What to you mean?" Donnie asked, leaning against his desk, hands braced on either side of his hips.

Michelangelo smiled a little. What he loved most about Donatello was that he was always willing to listen before making any judgment. Not like Raph, who immediately harassed him. And definitely not like Leo who was so quick to lecture him that sometimes he'd dive into a lengthy talk before he'd even done anything wrong, yet.

"Well, she was getting held up by three guys and two of them were on the brink of shooting her. So, I stopped them. I thought I knocked them all out, but missed one, I guess. He tried to shoot me," Mikey said.

Donatello's eye ridges rose, but he didn't say anything. He just nodded in inclination to continue.

"This girl pushed me out of the way and got shot instead. She was bleeding really bad…" Mikey's voice grew very quiet," I couldn't just… leave her there. What if she died?"

Donatello was frowning," She pushed you out of the way? That's why you took her home?"

Mikey nodded, rubbing his head sheepishly.

"Did she see your face?"

"Yeah, dude. She didn't scream or nothin', just looked at me. I thought she was gonna faint or something, but then she pushed me just before the guy shot. She must have seen him over my shoulder," Mikey said.

"Wow…" Was all he said as he looked back down at the woman. She didn't look particularly impressive. She was pretty, sure, but other than that, she was very plain looking. She definitely didn't look like a threat. From what he could see, no gang tattoos marred her skin and he found nothing that would hint Foot affiliation in her pockets. She was just some random civilian who'd saved his brother, knowing what he was. _That_ made her strange.

"So…" Mikey said," Do you think I'm stupid now?"

Donnie smiled and placed an arm over his brother's shoulder," Only if it's stupid to have a heart. I can't fault you for caring about others, Mikey. We'll figure this out."

"Thanks," Mikey smiled, then gestured the woman," Will she be okay?"

Before the purple banded turtle could respond the woman in question groaned. Her hand shakily rose to rub her head and she grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut as if to hide from the pain she was bound to be feeling.

Though Donatello winced and backed away a step, dreading the screaming that was bound to start at any moment, Michelangelo moved forward to help as the woman tried to push herself up. Brown eyes opened to swiveled to his face. She blinked in silence as her gaze moved over his strange face.

Michelangelo smiled warmly," Good morning, sunshine! How do you feel?'

"Like… someone dropped me off the empire state building…" She said, her voice a little hoarse. She rubbed her throat and swallowed thickly, trying to moisten it," What happened… where am I…?"

"You don't remember what happened?" Asked Donnie, who'd taken a tentative step forward since the woman didn't seem in a hurry to scream or throw anything. He froze however when she turned frightful eyes towards him and tensed up.

Mikey tilted his head, blocking his brother from her view," I saved you from those thugs, dudette. Don't you remember? You were working and they were trying to rob you at the corner store."

The woman shook her head," I don't remember any of that. I er… work at a store?"

"Oh no…" Donnie moaned, moving closer again. He held his hands up passively when her breath hitched again. For whatever reason, she seemed afraid of him, but not of Mikey.

"What _do_ you remember?" He asked.

The woman turned brown eyes to Mikey. She stared at his familiar crystal blue hues and reached a hand up to touch his cheek," I remember _you_."

Michelangelo blinked, feeling a little heat rise to his cheeks as she caressed his cheek and looked worriedly at Donatello whose forehead was creased with concern.

"What about your name? Where you live?" he asked.

The woman frowned at him, leaning away and watching him with uncertain eyes," My name is Michelle. I live on… I live on… on…"

Her brows furrowed and her cheeks flushed as she tried to remember. Insecurely, she hugged herself and rubbed her arms. Eyes wide, she looked back at Mikey," W-what happened to me? I-I can't remember!"

Whimpering, she curled into herself, cradling her head," I live on… on… My address is… it's…"

Michelangelo and Donatello exchanged glances.

"Leo is going to murder me," Mikey whispered. Donnie chewed his lip. Leo was certainly going to be angry.


End file.
